


High and Flighty

by seekrest



Series: IronDad Bingo [17]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (a spider-man if you will), College Student Peter Parker, Comic Book Science, Found Family, Gen, Light Angst, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter is a menace, Protective Peter Parker, accidental poisoning, but also a hero, canon nudged to the left, what a guy what a man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: "According to the Journal of Applied Psychology, stress concerning school work is one of the foremost emotional issues for college students today. Would you like for me to play your 'just chill' playlist to calm down?""No, I'm fine. I got a better idea," Peter says with a grin as he changes his direction, the Tower still in sight as he swings.—IronDad Bingo: Sickfic
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: IronDad Bingo [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652680
Comments: 28
Kudos: 150
Collections: Irondad Fic Exchange 2020





	High and Flighty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iron_spider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iron_spider/gifts).



> My entry for the IronDad Fic Exchange! 
> 
> Prompt: Peter getting sick from mail + Tony & May, Protective Peter & good ole found family vibes

“What’s on my schedule today, Karen?” Peter asks as he sends a hand out, swinging aimlessly through the city as the wind rushes past him. 

“You have your Physical Chemistry 2 lecture today at 1:30pm followed by a lab for Genetic Analysis at 3:45pm. Would you like for me to list out your current assignments as well?”

“No thanks,” Peter says with a laugh, releasing the web in his hand and going into free fall before sending out another web - the feeling of the wind rushing past him being something that's he's not sure he'll ever get tired of as he continues, "I'd rather not start off the day being stressed."

"According to the Journal of Applied Psychology, stress concerning school work is one of the foremost emotional issues for college students today. Would you like for me to play your 'just chill' playlist to calm down?"

"No, I'm fine. I got a better idea," Peter says with a grin as he changes his direction, the Tower still in sight as he swings towards it. Karen for her part seems to register his change in trajectory, no doubt from all the times he's swung his way over to this exact location over the years as she asks, "Would you like for me to place a call to Tony and let him know that you'll be arriving soon?"

"Nah," Peter says, smiling under the mask as he swings, "It's good to keep him on his toes." 

"It is embedded within my coding to remind you that Tony has a heart condition," Karen cheerfully replies, Peter laughing even more as he does a flip - hearing the cheers from a group of tourists as he does so. 

"He'll be fine, he's just dramatic," Peter says as he swings forward, the grumbling in his stomach being more than enough incentive to make his way to the Tower anyway. 

Peter had plenty of time to swing back to his crappy apartment but the chances of him having any food in there was slim to none, especially since Peter can't remember the last time he actually ate anything that didn't come pre-packaged or refrigerated. Tony was always good for some of the most gourmet, expensive food that Peter would never pay for in a million years but was more than willing to readily eat. 

Besides, Peter reasoned, it'd been almost a week since Tony had seen him. He'd be happy to see him. 

* * *

Tony was in fact, not happy to see him. Or at least, that's what Peter first thinks as he lands on the balcony and rips off his mask - hearing Tony swear as he stubs his toe as Peter walks through the open balcony. 

"Fuck, that-- hey kid, OW. Dammit, that hurt. FRIDAY, who moved the couches?" 

"You did, boss," FRIDAY's voice chimes across the overhead as Peter laughs, ruffling through his hair as he steps into the living room. 

"Hey Tony, are you rearranging the furniture again?" 

"No, FRIDAY's broken. Due for an update. Reboot. Something," Tony says crankily, waving his hand around as Peter grins.

"You do realize that you can have like, hobbies right? Ones that _don't_ involve you rearranging the furniture every day?" Peter asks as he walks past Tony and heads towards the kitchen, hearing Tony's scoff from behind as he grumbles something that sounds like 'I don't do it every day'

"Not that I don't mind seeing you Pete, but did you stop by for a reason or just to harass me? I'd rather cut through the bullshit if you're hiding some kind of injury. That tiling is brand new and I'd rather not have to get a blood stain out of it within the first week."

"It's not like you couldn't afford it. It's important that you use your money for good, Tony, not just redecorating," Peter says with a smirk, hearing Tony's exasperated sigh as he opens the massive fridge. "I'm hungry."

"You have an apartment, one that you refuse to let me pay for and also refuse to allow me to send groceries to. Eat there," Tony banters back with him, Peter rolling his eyes as he looks over his shoulder. 

"I thought you just said you didn't mind when I came by."

"Coming by to visit your long-suffering retired mentor in desperate need of a hobby as you put it? Sure. Having to see your forehead as you shovel an awful amount of nearly inedible food into your mouth, scrolling through your phone on whatever God-forsaken app you’re obsessed with now, before you disappear again? Not so much," Tony says, nudging Peter away from his fridge in a shooing motion as Peter laughs.

"Get out of my kitchen," Tony says, Peter willfully obliging as he walks over to the bar and barstools. He sits down as he asks, "So does that mean you're cooking for me?" 

"It does actually, if it'll keep your grubby little hands off ole Linda here,” Tony replies as he gazes at his fridge. 

"Linda?" Peter asks, wrinkling his nose before crossing his arms and leaning forward on the bar - looking down to see a pile of mail strewn across it. 

"Linda," Tony says dreamily, Peter glancing up to him and biting back yet another laugh at how gently and reverently Tony slides a hand over the handle of the fridge. "Keeps everything ice cold and tells me exactly what I need. Grocery lists are a thing of the past. Linda here is from the future."

"First of all," Peter begins as he rifles through Tony's mail, wondering if Tony's subscription to _Vogue_ had come in, "I didn't know you did your own grocery shopping."

"I don't but as your girlfriend continues to point out to me literally any chance she gets, I should do better about being connected with real people," Tony easily replies, Peter snickering at the memory of the last time he brought MJ over and her saying exactly that as he passes through the letters in search of the magazine. 

"Second,” Peter continues, “don't you already have FRIDAY? I mean not that she doesn't have better things to do but I definitely thought that keeping a grocery list would be something that she's fully capable of doing."

"You are correct, Peter. Unfortunately, boss is very particular about these things," FRIDAY replies right on cue as Tony grabs a handful of items from the fridge, Peter barely paying attention as he looks down curiously to a letter addressed to Tony in scrawled handwriting. 

"You're damn right I am," Tony says, Peter lifting up the letter and examining it as Tony continues, "besides, what's the point of having all this extravagance if I can't enjoy the simpler things in life."

"Wouldn't exactly call a smart fridge the simpler things, Tony," Peter says off-hand, turning the letter around in his hand. "Do you have a pen pal?"

"Is that some kind of new innuendo I'm not aware of? Actually wait, don't answer that," Tony says, Peter looking up to him and seeing Tony crack an egg in a bowl, "I don't want to know." 

"I'm talking about this," Peter says, "It's addressed to you and it's handwritten." He waves the letter around as Tony spares a quick glance to it before turning his attention back to the task at hand. 

Peter suddenly gasps, looking back down to the letter in glee before Tony rolls his eyes - likely already anticipating where Peter was going with this Peter asks, "Is this _fan mail_?"

"Probably," Tony says dismissively but not unkindly, whisking the eggs around in a bowl as Peter's filled with a new kind of glee. 

"Pep likes to grab a couple from the pile and have us read them personally."

"Don't you have people to like, vet this stuff? Is it safe for you to get mail delivered?" Peter asks, toying with the edges of it and desperately trying to restrain himself from asking about opening it to read it out loud.

Peter wasn't a nosy person by nature but there was an insatiable curiosity that burned within him, even at twenty years old and having been a part of Tony Stark's inner circle for years, at the kind of hand-written letters that Tony would be getting now. 

It'd been almost four years since Captain Marvel had snapped her fingers on that battlefield, bringing an end to Thanos and catapulting her into intergalactic stardom. The Avengers weren't obsolete but they paled in comparison now to how the world viewed Captain Marvel and the Mutants, Peter hearing more and more news of Charles Xavier's School for Mutants anytime he scrolled through social media.

It wasn't as if Iron Man wasn't immortalized in the Smithsonian along with the other Avengers and as if Tony had just ceased to be relevant. But the fact that Tony had all but retreated from public view after the first Snap, something that had only become permanent after the world was made right again, made Peter even more curious to know who was still writing fan letters to Iron Man. 

"Yeah it's all checked and then resealed for the effect. Pep says it's overkill but I don't know, I kind of like the jazziness of it all" Tony says with emphasis, Peter frowning as he brings the letter down and finally takes in what Tony is making him.

"Are you making me scrambled eggs? Really?"

"Hey," Tony says, pointing a spatula in his direction, "don't mess with the man making your food." 

Peter puts his hands up playfully, smiling only to glance around and ask, "Where is Pepper?" 

"Still in a meeting though," Tony says as he pours the egg mixture onto the frying pan before checking his watch, "if I'm right, she should be here in the next twenty minutes or so. How long do I got you for?"

Peter looks at the clock hanging above Tony’s head before tilting his head and saying, "I'll just miss her. I hate to eat and run but..."

"You're a bad liar, Pete. You gotta work on that," Tony quips, Peter laughing as he shakes his head. 

"MJ says the same thing."

"That MJ's a smart one," Tony says fondly, Peter turning his attention back to the letter as he runs a thumb over it.

There's no return address which is a little weird but then again, Peter doesn't exactly know how fan letters work. When he was little, he'd always dreamed of what it would be like to actually talk to Iron Man or Captain America but he'd never actually ever gotten the courage to send them a letter - no matter how many times Ben or May had encouraged him to do so. 

It felt too personal, too real, to contact his heroes like that - Peter admiring the bravery of this imaginary person just as much as he was curious to see what was inside of it. 

He must be lost in thought a little too long because before he knows it, a plate comes into view - Peter looking up in surprise as Tony sets it down, passing him a fork as he says, "Bon appetit." 

"Thanks Tony," Peter says, taking the fork in one hand and going to pass the letter over with another before Tony waves him off.

"Go ahead and read it. You clearly want to and if I'm honest, it gets a little hard for me to see things now without my reading glasses. Don't tell Pepper," Tony says half-seriously. 

Peter smirks before asking, "Are you sure?"

Tony shrugs, moving to the sink to rinse off the frying pan as he says, "Need a good laugh."

"Tony," Peter says with mock disdain before gleefully ripping open the letter, "someone could've poured their heart and soul into this."

"And I will feel the appropriate amount of guilt and shame if they did but I'm telling you kid, there's a good chance that it'll just be someone telling me that I'm a war criminal."

Peter goes to say something only for Tony to put a hand up, looking exasperated as he says, "Just read the letter." 

Peter snickers, taking the paper out only to frown when he looks at it - turning it over and back again as the water from the sink runs. 

"What's it say? Any stunning prose or colorful expletives? Good debate material next time MJ comes over?" Tony asks, Peter shaking his head as he flips the papers again.

"There's... nothing. It’s blank," Peter says in confusion, looking at Tony who just purses his lips. 

"Let me see," Tony says, wiping his hands on the towel at the sink before reaching for it. But before Peter has the chance to pass it over to him, FRIDAY's voice rings out, "Boss, there's an incoming call from May Parker."

"Put her on," Tony says as Peter balks, looking up at the ceiling and then back to Tony as Tony says "Yello?"

"Hey Tony, just checking in to see if you and Pepper are still free for dinner tonight."

"You guys meet for dinner without me?" Peter squawks out, slamming the letter down on the counter as both Tony and May laugh.

"Pete! I didn't know you were over there." 

"He's not here, he's once again mooching off my air conditioning and free food," Tony says with a wink, Peter rolling his eyes as Tony continues, "And yes I got the reservation at Paloma's already set." 

"I can't believe you guys are going to Paloma's without me," Peter grumbles, stabbing his eggs with his fork as May laughs again.

"Sweetheart, would you have actually been able to make it on time for a reservation?" May asks gently, Peter shoveling some of the eggs into his mouth as Tony looks at him with a knowing expression on his face.

"I’d still like to be _asked_ ," Peter grumbles to himself as he chews, Tony shaking his head as he says, "He's pouting again, May."

"I'm not pouting," Peter says, clearly pouting, making a face at Tony who returns one back to him, "I just liked it better when your lives revolved around me."

"Well you went and grew up on us, Pete. What'd you expect? The two of us to just fade off into the distance? Please. All of this," Tony says, waving to his now fully greyed hair, "is because of you. I need someone to reminisce about the good old days with."

"Who are you calling old?" May's voice rings out, Peter smiling despite himself as she and Tony go back and forth. Peter turns his attention back to his eggs and to the time, knowing that May was right. If he didn't leave soon, he'd be late to his class again - something that he physically cannot afford to do since Dr. Wheeler refused to record his lectures. 

"I gotta go," Peter says with a still full mouth, moving to dump his dishes in the sink as Tony makes room for him. Tony sighs in fond affection as he does so, Peter going to give him a hug only for Tony to back away as he says, "Nope. Nuh uh, last time you hugged me with the suit on, I couldn't get that smell out of that shirt for a week. When's the last time you even washed that thing?"

"You don't want to know," Peter replies, grabbing his mask on the counter as Tony wrinkles his nose in disgust. He pauses when he sees the blank letter that had been sent, grabbing it and waving it as he asks, "What do you want me to do with this?"

"Do with what?" May asks, Tony just waving a hand dismissively as he says, "Throw it out. Just some prank fan mail, May."

"Oh is that all?" She asks teasingly, Peter already seeing that Tony was going to regret bringing it up in the first place as Tony rolls his eyes and Peter moves to dump the papers in the trash.

"Don't start--"

"Oh I've already started," May's voice rings out as Peter backs away, pulling his mask over his face. 

The two continue to banter back and forth, Peter being pleased that their relationship had developed to this point compared to how it had been when they first met. Despite his teasing, he was glad that the two of them got along so well, if only cause it made recapping the daily part’s of his life a lot easier when talking to one or the other. 

It was a lot easier to live without secrets, even if MJ _was_ right and for his own peace of mind, he needed to become a better liar when it came to Spider-Man stuff.

Spider-Man though would have to wait, waving goodbye to Tony and launching himself off the balcony and towards his next class.

* * *

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have ate and swung,” Peter mutters to himself as he runs a hand over his midsection, groaning slightly as he closes the door. His neighbors music is still going off, some kind of marimba beat that would normally cause him to dance but right now feels like someone is rattling around the inside of his brain. 

The eggs Tony made shouldn’t have made him feel this bad, especially since Peter knows for a fact that the chances of Tony’s eggs being expired with “Linda” were slim to none. But that’s the only thing Peter can give as an explanation for how shitty he feels right now, a shiver running up and down his spine as walks over to the bathroom.

Peter hasn’t felt this sick in years, not since the bite. Yet it feels exactly like that case of food poisoning he and Ned got when they were twelve, eating from a now long-condemned hot dog stand and swearing afterwards to never eat a hot dog from a street vendor ever again - not that either of them followed through with it. 

Peter’s hands shake as he lets his backpack down on the floor of his nearly bare living room, stumbling over to the bathroom and just barely making it before it’s as if his insides feel like they’re splitting apart. 

Yet even after throwing up everything he’s eaten for the past two days, finally spitting up bile as he flushes the toilet, Peter still feels like his insides are twisting up into knots. The back of his shirt sticks to him for all the sweat that’s accumulated and he’s shivering from what he can only imagine is a fever.

Peter leans back from the toilet, propping himself up against the front of his tub as he reaches for his phone in his pocket.

His head is killing him, like it had the last time he went up against the Rhino even if the most he’s done today is swing from the Tower to class. The screen’s images blur against each other, Peter’s thumb unsuccessfully trying to tap against to call someone. 

There’s only four people he calls with any sort of regularity, desperately trying to focus as his thumb finally presses against the tab and a call goes through. He has the presence of mind to put the phone on speaker before leaning his head back against the tub, holding on for the ringing on the other line until a familiar voice on the other line answers.

“Yo, what’s up?” He hears Ned say, Peter’s mouth feeling dry and his throat feeling cracked as he clears his throat. 

“Dude, you okay? Peter?” 

Peter wheezes, staring up at the stained ceiling of his bathroom before rolling his head back to where the phone is in his hands. 

“Ned, I don’t-- I don’t feel so good,” Peter says before feeling like he has to throw up again. He wrenches himself forward, coughing up bile and spit as Ned’s voice rings out in the background.

“Whoa hey, Pete? What’s going on? Peter?” 

Peter braces himself against the toilet, shivering so violently that he can’t see straight. For a split second, Peter begins to wonder if the air conditioning isn’t working in his apartment just before the shaking becomes unbearable, the last thing Peter hears before he drifts into unconsciousness being Ned’s frantic pleas. 

* * *

Tony’s just gotten off the phone with Morgan’s piano teacher when his phone rings again, smirking when he sees the contact info across the screen.

He slides his thumb across to answer, bringing the phone to his ear before saying, “Ned! Good to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Mr. Stark, something’s wrong with Peter.” 

Tony’s blood goes cold, immediately sitting up from his position on the couch.

“Where is he?” He asks, waving a hand in the air for FRIDAY to activate a holo-screen in front of him. She’s so intune with his movements and his requests that she’s already activated Peter’s GPS, pointing out his location just as Ned replies, “I don’t know. I don’t-- he just called me and sounded awful. He stopped responding, I had to--”

“You did good, kid,” Tony says, frowning as he squints at the holo-screen in front of him. It shows that Peter’s at his apartment so he can be glad that he’s not bleeding out on a rooftop somewhere. 

Though, Tony thinks as he looks around to figure out his next move, this wouldn’t be the first time Peter’s made it back to his crappy little apartment just to have his bathroom look like a murder scene. 

“I’ll get him, Ned. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Can you call me and let me know he’s okay? After?” Ned asks, Tony making a mental note to do just that as he says, “Of course. Talk to you soon.”

They say their goodbyes just as Pepper walks in from the over room, her smile falling when she sees the concern on Tony’s face. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Something’s up with Pete,” Tony says, fingers twitching against his side. “Ned called, sounds like he’s passed out.”

Pepper frowns as Tony continues, “Last time I crashed into his apartment with a suit, the landlord gave us hell and he had to move.”

“But if he’s bleeding out…” Pepper offers, Tony nodding as he moves to grab the keys to one of his faster cars.

“Be back in time for dinner?” Tony says with a casualness that he doesn’t feel. Pepper gives him a small smile as she says, “I’ll get the medbay ready.” 

He rushes to give her a kiss before leaving out the elevator, running on autopilot from having done this time and time again.

If Tony’s honest with himself, this is one of the things he thought they’d left behind. The older Peter’s gotten, the less he’s needed Tony in this specific capacity - getting better about avoiding easy hits and less susceptible to being taken by surprise by some two-bit thief looking to make some trouble. Lifting the Baby Monitor protocol had been a gradual thing, just as Tony’s own obsessive need to keep tabs on Spider-Man’s daily habits - an old instinct that he fought against almost as much as he fought against surveilling Morgan as she went off to school. 

But that still doesn’t negate the low grade panic that’s bubbling up in his chest as he drives down the streets of Manhattan, a panic that only grows as he continues to try and call Peter with no answer.

There hadn’t been any news alerts of problems in the city, but that meant nothing considering the kind of shit Peter found himself in. 

When he finally makes it to Peter’s apartment, Tony flies up the stairs as fast as he possibly can - out of breath and almost wheezing from the exertion.

“Not as young as I used to be, kid,” Tony mutters to himself as he works to open the door, only for his face to fall when he realizes it’s unlocked.

Fear runs through Tony then that Peter was so out of it that he hadn’t even locked the door to his apartment, barging in and closing it behind him as he glanced around.

He sees Peter’s discarded backpack in the living room and the door to his tiny bathroom open, dread filling his stomach as he walks over.

Only for that dread to manifest into full blown panic when he sees Peter passed out on the bathroom floor, his face so pale that it nearly blends in with the cold linoleum floor beneath him.

“Pete? Hey, hey kid you with me?” Tony asks as he reaches for Peter, gasping when Peter’s skin feels like fire underneath his fingertips. 

“FRIDAY?” Tony asks, his watch lighting up as it scans Peter’s body. Yet before she responds, Tony can just barely catch the rapid rise and fall of Peter’s chest, a horrible wheezing sound that churns up Tony’s insides.

“Heartbeat detected but it’s fast, boss,” FRIDAY’s voice chimes out, Tony pressing a hand against Peter’s forehead as he brushes some hair back.

“You’re gonna give _me_ a heart attack someday, kid,” Tony says, joking only so that he doesn’t continue to panic. Peter’s only response is another horrible wheeze, dread pooling in the pit of Tony’s stomach at how different Peter looked now compared to this morning only for FRIDAY’s voice to chime in once again. 

“I do not detect any discernible injuries, boss.”

 _What the hell happened_ , Tony thinks to himself - staring at Peter’s slack face as the panic sits like a rock in his gut. 

* * *

“I don’t understand, he was fine,” May says, chewing her lip as the two of them stare at Peter.

“I don’t either,” Tony says, wiping a hand across his face as he sighs. The beeping of the heart monitor echoes across the room, Tony watching as May gently takes Peter’s hand into hers. 

“The doctors can’t figure out what it is?” May asks as she stares at Peter, guilt churning in Tony’s gut as he forces himself to look away from her.

“Not what it is or where it came from,” Tony says, looking down to his hands. “Bruce is in the lab now trying to figure out where the substance came from. Rhodey went down to help but,” Tony sighs, his shoulders sagging as he picks at the skin between his index finger and his thumb, “we don’t even know where to start.”

“Nothing from the suit?” May asks, only for Tony to grimace as he forces himself to look up at her.

“No,” Tony says, “he didn’t even get the chance to patrol. Last thing I saw was him getting to his class before the feed cuts off. He must’ve taken the subway home but…”

Tony trails off, May staring at Tony for a beat before turning her attention back to Peter. The chances of them figuring out what Peter could’ve been exposed to on a New York City subway between his stop and his apartment was a shot in the dark, even if Tony had already hacked the local security footage and found nothing strange. 

It was like night and day, the difference between how Peter looked when he came over for lunch, teasing him about fanmail compared to now - looking more like a corpse than a person as Tony wrings his hands together.

Only for the thought to hit him like lightning as he gasps, sitting up as May does the same.

“What?” 

“The letter,” Tony says, his stomach twisting itself into knots as he looks up to May before calling out to FRIDAY.

“FRI, has the trash been taken out yet in the kitchen of the penthouse?”

“No boss, shall I--”

“Get a hazmat team down there and evacuate the penthouse,” Tony says in a rush, fear and relief running through him at the realization that Morgan was still safely at her piano lesson. “Tell them to search the trash for a blank piece of paper, should be right at the top.”

“What’s going on?” May asks, Tony grimacing as the relief is replaced with guilt.

“I uh, I got a letter in the mail. Blank, nothing on it. I…” He looks over to Peter’s still form, the guilt gnawing at his chest as he says, “Pete opened it.”

May freezes, looking back to Peter and down to her hands - eyes widening before she meets Tony’s gaze.

“Do you think--”

“I don’t know,” Tony says, noticing that May doesn’t once take her hand out of Peter’s. “But we’ll figure this out.”

If Tony’s right and someone tried to poison him, there’s no telling what being in the room right now would mean for the two of them. But just as May seems unwilling to move from Peter’s bedside, so is Tony - holding her gaze as she nods. 

“We always do.”

* * *

  
Peter’s head is pounding, shifting it slightly only to feel a hand across his forehead. The touch is gentle and familiar, just as the smell of her perfume is as he groans.

“May?” He calls out, hearing soft laughter as her thumb brushes across his forehead.

“Hi sweetheart,” she says, Peter’s eyelashes fluttering as he works to open them. When he finally does, his eyes lazily find May’s - seeing the warm smile on he face as he blinks back at her in confusion.

“What happened?”

“What happened,” Tony’s voice rings out, Peter turning to the sound as he continues, “is the most spectacular stroke of Parker luck I’ve seen in a long time.”

Tony’s words are joking but Peter can tell there’s an edge to them, frowning as May brings her hand down. 

“What do y’u mean?” He asks, smacking his lips together as he winces. His throat still feels dry, fuzzy memories of puking his guts out coming back to mind as Tony sighs.

“Turns out that fan mail you looked through wasn’t fan mail at all,” Tony says, sharing a look with May. “It was laced with a paralytic, something that would’ve killed any normal person instantly.”

Peter frowns, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he says, “A paralytic? But I didn’t-- I was walking just fine.”

Tony wipes a hand across his face as he leans forward. “I don’t know. Best guess is that your spider-DNA reacted to it differently but it doesn’t matter now,” Tony says definitively. “You’re okay, you’re not contagious, and you’re banned from ever reading my mail ever again.”

Peter laughs at that only to sober up immediately, his mind taking a beat too long to connect the dots as his smile falls. 

“Someone tried to kill you,” Peter says, Tony just waving a hand away dismissively. 

“Just another Wednesday for me,” Tony says. But Peter can see the strained look in his eyes, Peter’s mind already filling in the blanks of what could’ve happened had Tony himself opened the letter or worse, Pepper or Morgan. 

But before Peter’s worry can run away from him, Tony puts his hand down and says, “As far as _your_ Wednesday, Dr. Roberts has given us strict instructions to keep you here under observation overnight. Bruce is still working out a fix and Helen’s on a plane now, just to be safe.”

Peter lets out a huff, turning to May before saying, “But I have lab tomorrow.”

May gives him a look, Tony laughing from the other side of the bed as he says, “I’m serious, May. Dr. Wheeler--”

“Will live,” Tony cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Unlike you, if you don’t call Ned back and apologize for freaking him out.”

Peter winces. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be better when he hears from you,” Tony says definitively as May chimes in, “He and MJ are on their way now actually. I’m supposed to let them know when you wake up.” 

May leans forward to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead, Peter’s eyes closing as she does before she stands and smiles down at him.

“Next time you want to go to Paloma’s with us, just ask,” she says seriously, only to grin as Peter laughs. 

May winks at Tony before grabbing her phone out of her pocket, stepping out of the room to place a call as Tony leans back in his chair. 

“How bad?” Peter asks, glad that Tony immediately understands his meaning as Tony sighs. 

They didn’t hide nearly as much from May now, not after she found out the truth. But Peter knows Tony will tell it to him straight, superhero to superhero - even if the latter was retired. 

“Bad enough,” Tony admits. “You gave us a hell of a scare, Pete,” 

Peter sits up as best he can without messing with the cannula around his nose. 

“I’m not sorry,” he says as Tony sighs, “Someone tried to kill you.”

“Someone very nearly killed _you_ ,” Tony replies, looking as if he was going to argue with Peter only to hold his gaze for a beat before his shoulders sag. 

Peter knows just as well as Tony does that this was a freak accident that had turned out relatively well— that had it been anyone other than Peter that they wouldn’t be in the medbay right now, but a morgue. 

“Is everyone okay?” Peter asks anyway, Tony shaking his head as he puts his hand in his chin. 

“Everyone’s fine,” Tony says, sounding a little exasperated. “You didn’t spread it anywhere, seems the residue was only effective after initial contact. Your suit, on the other hand, is getting a good cleaning.”

Peter holds his ground, enough that when Tony finally meets his eyes— the little nod Tony gives calms the low grade anxiety that had started to weigh on him.

“I mean it, Pete. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes old man,” Peter says with a smile. Tony just rolls his eyes, Peter noticing the tension being slowly released from his shoulders. It had to have been bad, if Tony was here sitting vigil rather than in the lab with Bruce. 

But the sight and sound of Peter talking back to him must confirm that everything’s alright as Tony rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll keep my toes firmly on the ground, thank you. Someone has to.”

“Bold words from someone who flew around in a metal suit for ten years,” Peter bounces back just as May walks back in.

“May, your nephew is a menace,” Tony scoffs, May just smiling at Peter fondly as she walks back to where her chair on the side of his bed is.

“Careful Tony, you’re starting to sound like Jameson.”

“Typical of the bourgeoisie,” Peter jokes with May, Tony’s exasperated sigh causing May to laugh - the sound of it settling Peter’s residual nerves. 

It was a problem to say the least, that someone still had it in for Tony and had somehow found their way to his mail. The reality that this could have all gone very badly, not just for the Starks but for Peter himself, isn’t lost on him.

As the two of them began to joke back and forth, Peter couldn’t help but be glad that even if Parker luck seemed to work against him most of the time, it had ended up saving the day. 

Right up until Peter remembered that the lab he was going to miss was worth half of his grade.

He inwardly sighs, still chalking it up as a win as May and Tony already start discussing their new dinner plans next week - plans that Peter can already guess will _not_ include him. 

_Good ole Parker luck._


End file.
